A/N: I have no idea how I'm awake enough to be writing fanfiction at one thirty in the morning. Please excuse all poor writing.
Disclaimer: I disclaim this.
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Roxas wasn't superstitious, but he believed in the power of solitaire. That was to say, ever since he was a child, his luck at winning or losing seemed a premonition of his life. Some days, he breezed through and watched the cards bounce across the screen with a small smile. More often than not, he couldn't even make a first move with the layout on his first deal.
The day Axel entered his life, he dealt five straight games without moving a single card. It was only natural that when he stepped on the bus that morning, an annoying redhead with a taste for draping himself over Roxas would change his life forever. After all, with a brother like Sora, his asshat boyfriend Riku, friends like Hayner, Pence, and Olette who were far more outgoing and cheery than should be allowed, and a mass of bedheaded, untameable hair that completely undermined his 'you're-a-freak-get-away-from-me' scowl, he would attract weirdos like Axel on the bus.
Axel had no patience for solitaire. Virtual cards could not be shuffled, tomahawked at people, or set on fire; thus, they were of little value to him. The game seemed to know it too; if Axel were at his apartment, or they'd made plans for that night, Roxas would be lucky to keep a game going for any more than a minute.
One boring, dreary morning, he played several games in succession and could find no king but the King of Hearts. As he left his apartment, it was a heavy contemplation whether that meant a. he was feeling more like stabbing himself in the head today than usual, or b. a supernatural force was making it clear to him that he should never try growing a mustache (1). He thought it over boredly as he waited to cross the street, scowling at Axel who was making kissy faces at him from the bus stop.
If he hadn't been thinking about it so much, he might have noticed the dumbass woman running the stoplight before he lost his ability to think or notice.
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Hospital beds, as it turned out, were terrible places to play cards. It was $4.00 for a pack from the gift shop and the tray tables weren't nearly big enough to play on. Plus, the red and black of the cards kept reminding him of the giant fucking knot on his head where he'd kissed concrete.
His utter failure at his first game told him Axel was on his way, so Roxas played leisurely, keeping himself busy until the redhead came to ruin his peace and quiet. He didn't have to wait long; Axel appeared in the doorway soon after with an almost disturbingly panicked look in his eyes. At the first glimpse of Roxas, he froze, one hand on the door, and Roxas wondered how embarrassing it would be if Axel started crying.
He didn't. Instead, he said, his voice cracking, "Fucking dork. I thought you were gonna eat it."
That established, he wasted no time rushing to Roxas's side. The card table was shoved away carelessly, the black and red faces spilling all over the floor. Roxas didn't have much time to think about the consequences of that because suddenly Axel's face was in his line of sight and his brain wasn't functioning because Axel was kissing him.
Axel was far too good a kisser for the cards to seem all that important right then.
He stayed for a long, long time, and the cards stayed on the floor for a long, long time. They must have taken offense, because Roxas never won a game of Solitaire again.
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The King of Hearts in a deck of cards is stabbing himself in the head. He's also the only king without a mustache.
A/N: In case anyone wonders, this happens to me. Go sit down and play a game of solitaire every couple days. Someone installed a fortune teller into that game.